Snap Induction
by broomsticks1
Summary: A strange tribute from District 7 (OC) gets reaped for the 75th Hunger Games and gets thrown into a rebellion that he honestly couldn't care less about. The story's better than the summary, I promise :D. Rated M for violence. Feel free to offer any criticism/reviews in the comments. Thanks for reading, friends!


"Get up, you stupid drunk!" a voice echoed through the halls of David Allister's home in the Victors' Village of District Seven.

David rolled over in his bed and hurled a glass bottle at his bedroom door, where it shattered into a million pieces.

"Go away, Johanna!" he shouted back to the voice.

"The Reaping's in ten minutes!" Johanna Mason protested.

"Why should I care? I'm a Mentor!"

Johanna stormed into the room and slapped David in the face. "This year's the Third Quarter Quell. The tributes are being reaped out of the previous victors, so you should care. Now get up and at least try to make yourself look presentable."

David grudgingly got out of the bed, brushed his untidy black hair out of his eyes, and grabbed some pants off of the floor and began pulling them on.

"You know why Snow's doing this former victors thing, right?" David asked Johanna as he buttoned his pants and pulled his coat on.

"Do enlighten me," Johanna replied sarcastically as she followed him out of the room.

"To try to kill the Everdeen girl," he said, ignoring Johanna's usual attitude. "He's scared of her, and rightfully so."

"It doesn't matter why he's doing it, what matters is that we're going back into the arena," Johanna pointed out.

"Just try to act surprised when your name gets drawn," David said as he walked out of his house and into the fresh air of District Seven, which always smelled like a lumber yard (mainly because that's what it was) and the roaring of chainsaws could be heard in the distance at all hours of the day.

"You're twenty nine years old. You shouldn't need me to take care of you," Johanna changed the subject.

"Kind of an abrupt change of subject," David observed. "You could have at least tried to segue into it with something remotely related."

"It doesn't matter. It's true," Johanna replied.

"You're still harping on this?" David asked exasperatedly.

"Yes," Johanna replied simply.

"I was your mentor, and I thought it was high time you return the favor," David gave in.

"You mentored Blight too, and he isn't constantly babysitting you."

"Because Blight's not stupid enough to care. You're a kind, gracious person with a heart of gold, Johanna Mason," David grinned.

"Oh, shut up," Johanna pushed him, trying not to smile.

The two walked into the crowded square and took their places on either side of the main stage just as their Capitol representative began to speak.

After what felt like hours of white noise, everybody turned their attention to the bin on the representative's left side. She reached into the bin and pulled out a slip of paper.

"The female tribute for District Seven in the Seventy Fifth Hunger Games is… Johanna Mason." She said into the microphone.

Johanna stepped up to stand next to the representative amidst halfhearted applause.

"The male tribute will be," she reached into the bin, "David Allister."

David walked over to stand on the representative's other side to be met with the same halfhearted applause.

The square was empty less than a minute later, except for the two new tributes and District Seven's representative for the Capitol.

The representative turned to Johanna and David. "You'll be leaving tomorrow morning for the Capitol. Somebody will collect you in the morning." With that, she walked off of the stage and disappeared.

* * *

><p><em>The cannon boomed through the arena and the twenty four tributes were off. David was running as fast as he could towards the small tent that was the cornucopia, the snow in the frigid arena crunching beneath his feet.<em>

_ He grabbed a backpack upon arrival at the tent and began to run to the forest of snow-covered evergreen trees, when a hand grabbed him and hurled him onto the ground. He rolled out of the way as a sword hit the ground exactly where his neck had just been. He kicked the tribute in the ribs as hard as he could and frantically jumped up as the tribute was doubled over, gasping for air._

_ The tribute swung a fist at David, which he easily blocked and countered with a cross to his left cheek, causing several satisfying crunches. He ducked as the tribute swung his sword again and plunged his hand into his newly acquired bag. He pulled out a rather large hunting knife just as the tribute tackled him to the ground._

_ Seeming to abandon killing the nimble tribute from District Seven with his bulky sword, the tribute grabbed David by the throat and squeezed as hard as he could. As spots appeared in David's eyes and death came nearer and nearer, he plunged the knife into the tribute's throat as hard as he could, causing a torrent of blood to spill on him and the snow._

David sat up in his bed and looked up at the clock on the wall. _Twenty minutes and we're out of here._ He got up and walked into the kitchen and to the refrigerator, grabbing an unmarked bottle and bit the top off, as was his usual morning ritual. Nightmares were nothing new to the former tribute.

He hadn't been in the arena in eleven years, and he was still plagued by nightmares, as every victor was. Nobody wins the Games, they just survive. He had survived at eighteen in the Sixty-Fourth Games. He was almost in the clear. He would never forget the look on his girlfriend's face when his name was called. That haunted him more than anything.

He sat down at his small kitchen table and stared out of the window, waiting for the Peacekeepers to come for him. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, five white uniforms walked up to his doorstep. They had seen what he could do in the arena, and they weren't taking any chances by not having enough manpower.

David opened the door and pulled his coat on. "General Faulkner," he said icily.

"David Allister," the general said coldly. "It's been far too long."

"You could say that," David replied.

"Some five years."

"Not long enough, then."

"How's your little girlfriend these days?"

"Go to hell!" David shot back viciously.

Faulkner laughed. "That's enough. Everybody's already on the train and ready to go, and the faster I get you there, the faster I get to watch you die."

David grinned, "Well, you know how I hate to keep people waiting."

Before the Peacekeeper could retort, David walked out of his house and towards to train station to what could be his death, or something far bigger.

* * *

><p>David stared out of the window of the train as it streaked through the countryside on the way to the Capitol. <em>If that idiot girl had just killed that Mellark boy, we wouldn't be in this mess, and I'd be at home, passed out in my own vomit. I'd say I've earned it.<em>

David jumped as Blight walked into the car, followed by Johanna. "David, we need to watch the other victors' Games and see what we're up against," he said.

"Who's "we"?" David tore his gaze away from the countryside to look at Blight.

"Fine. You and Johanna," he amended.

"Blight, I know these people," David assured him. "I've mentored with them for years."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes, it does."

"What does it mean, then?"

"That I know them."

"Can you give me a straight answer for once?" Blight asked.

"I know their strengths, their weaknesses, and how they fight."

"That's because you've been mentoring for eleven years. Johanna doesn't know any of this."

"That's her problem," David replied simply.

"Well, I suggest you make it your problem, too," Blight said warningly. "You two are in this together. This isn't like a normal Games. You're going against seasoned killers. Cold-blooded murderers."

"That's what makes it interesting. The Games can be so mundane with little kids going up against people who have prepared their whole lives for it."

"Regardless," Blight persisted, "we really need to know who we're up against, how dangerous they, how they won their Games, and other stuff like that."

"Gloss and Cashmere, District One: dangerous. Enobaria and Brutus, District Two: dangerous. Beetee and Wiress, District Three: brilliant, but not a huge physical threat. Finnick and Mags, District Four: deadly, especially in water. Five shouldn't be a problem. The Morphlings from Six will be too easy to kill. Cecelia and Woof, Eight: possible threat. Nine and Ten shouldn't be a huge problem. Seeder and Chaff, Eleven: nice people, but not a threat. Lastly, Twelve shouldn't be too difficult," David rattled off.

"Very impressive," Blight said sarcastically.

"I know," David replied, aiming to irritate Blight by taking his blatant sarcasm as a compliment. He got up and walked to the door of the car.

"Where do you think you're going?" Johanna asked.

"Sleep," David said as he shut the door behind him, eager to get away from everyone and enjoy a few minutes of solitude before he got back into the arena.

* * *

><p><em>David slowly walked through the snow-covered evergreen trees, his machete held at the ready. Suddenly he heard a rustle of branches behind him and felt snow fall on his head. He hit the ground as an arrow soared over his head and jumped up to face the tribute. He swung his machete at the young man, who dropped his bow and went for his knife.<em>

_ David easily blocked the tribute's blind swing with the knife and countered with a punch to the jaw. His head snapped back and he stumbled backwards, grabbing onto a tree for support. David lunged forward and swung his machete again. The tribute barely missed it and went back for another stab with his knife._

_ David jumped back and swung his machete at the tribute's arm, nearly tearing it away from his body when it connected. He clapped a hand over the tributes mouth as he screamed and slowly dragged his machete across his throat._

_ He threw the body to the ground, picked up the tribute's weapons, and hurried away from the body as the cannon boomed through the arena and a hovercraft materialized to retrieve the fallen tribute. As he ran, an invisible force hurled him into a tree, making his shoulder scream with pain._

_ He ducked as a throwing knife buried itself into the tree right where his head had been less than a second before. Before he could get to his knees he was thrown back into the tree with a thud that knocked the breath from his lungs. Before he could try to catch his breath, he felt an enormous pressure on his chest and hot, rancid, foul-smelling breath on his face._

David sat up in his bed so fast that it made his head spin. He was drenched in a cold sweat and his hands were shaking. His nightmares hadn't gotten to him this bad in years. He sat up and raked a hand slowly through his hair.

"Get up!" Johanna banged on his door. "The designers have to get us ready for the opening ceremonies!"

"Fantastic," he grumbled. "They'll probably put us in those stupid tree things again."

He grudgingly joined Johanna in the hallway and walked to the doors of the train.

He threw them open and stepped out onto the platform and into the Capitol, grinning widely. There were buildings everywhere, all of different shapes and sizes and colors. They went all out this year. There were lights hanging everywhere and bright colored streamers and curtains all over the streets and the buildings.

"It's good to be back," David said.

"Speak for yourself," Johanna muttered grumpily.

"You're just determined to have a bad time, aren't you?" David asked her exasperatedly.

"I'm certainly not determined to have a good time," she shot back.

"Well, you might die later in the arena, so at least try to look like you're enjoying yourself now."

"Oh, great," Johanna moaned. "Please don't start this again."

"Start what?" David asked, surprised.

"All of this "balance of probabilities" garbage."

"It's actually really fun to say if you use it in the correct context."

"I'll take your word for it," Johanna shot the subject down as she turned down a hallway. "See you at the ceremony!" she called over her shoulder.

"I guess you will," David sighed as he walked into his dressing room to put on the weird tree costume once again.

* * *

><p>David walked into the chariot arena just before the opening ceremonies began and looked around. <em>It's good to be back, in a way<em>.

He had managed to get out of wearing the tree costume. He'd compromised with his designers that he would wear a suit made up of strange combinations of greens and browns: a green coat, green pants, a dark brown shirt, a light brown vest, and some light brown loafers. It was definitely an improvement, even if it had nearly killed his designer to make it happen.

He looked across the room to see a bare back facing him and a familiar head of blonde hair talking to the nation's precious little "Girl on Fire." He grinned and walked over to the pair and slapped the bare back with his hand as hard as he could.

"Stop pestering the poor girl, Finnick. The whole country knows more about her than she does about herself."

Finnick Odair turned around, his face contorted with pain. "Oh, great. You again."

"Me again," David confirmed as he pulled Finnick into a tight hug, which he reciprocated.

"Still dealing in secrets?" David asked. "I'm telling you, if you'd deal in money or alcohol you'd be a much happier man."

"I'll take your word for it, you old drunk."

"You sound just like Johanna."

"Doesn't everyone," Finnick replied, not in the mood to get into an argument that would probably never end.

"So how's the competition look this year?" David asked, gesturing towards the tributes around the chariots.

"Same as any other year," Finnick replied, "but we're fighting them this year."

"Should be pretty interesting," David said.

"Definitely," Finnick agreed, looking over at the hulking figures of the males from Districts One and Two. "It definitely will be."

After a pause, David turned to Katniss. "Hello, I'm…"

"Tributes, please report to your chariots for the opening ceremonies at this time," a voice came over the intercom, interrupting David's introduction.

"…David Allister! Bye!" he shouted over his shoulder as he hurried to his chariot.

* * *

><p>"I thought that would <em>never<em> end," Johanna groaned as she walked with David back to their rooms after the opening ceremonies. "Everybody already knows what we look like, so I don't see why we have to do it again."

"So Snow can have his fun with us and show off what he can do, even to those who beat him already."

"Sure," Johanna replied absentmindedly.

David stuck his foot between the closing doors of an elevator just as they came up to it. They opened with a _ding_ and the pair stepped inside.

"Haymitch Abernathy!" David exclaimed. "You were probably hoping I'd died before you had to see me again."

"One can only be so lucky," he replied as he extended his hand with something that could qualify as a smile for him.

"So how's the competition looking?" Haymitch asked as David released his hand.

"Hardly any competition at all," David replied with as much arrogance as he could muster. "The only thing I'm really worried about is killing the Morphlings from Six before they get dug in and hide."

"Brilliant plan," Haymitch replied sarcastically

"Unzip me?" Johanna turned to Peeta, who slowly obeyed with a surprised look on his face.

"Must you do this every time we're around people, Johanna?" David asked irritably.

"It's my body, and I'll do what I want to with it!" she replied as she stepped out of her dress and turned to face the occupants of the elevator.

"Remember what happened last time you told a certain someone that he couldn't tell you what to do with your body?" he asked.

Johanna turned around and slapped David in the face as hard as she could. He stumbled back into the wall with spots in his eyes as she grabbed her dress and trudged out of the elevator.

David just laughed and walked out of the elevator, rubbing his cheek.

As the doors closed, he heard Haymitch say, "David Allister and Johanna Mason: District Seven, insane."


End file.
